Taming Dragons with Bedsheets
by 123Quarters
Summary: When Charlie moves back to the Burrow for the summer, the twins are determined to help their older brother catch up on all of the physical encounters he missed while surrounded by men and dragons in Romania.
1. Chapter 1

_**Taming Dragons with Bedsheets **_

_Chapter One: Australian Death Grip

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_

"So going back over what we've taught you-"

"You get her attention with a good old Australian Death Grip."

"Remember, confidence is key. And if you can't get the confidence thing to work, I've always liked a nice Stunning Spell."

"Right, and once you've got her going, or knocked unconscious, that's when you get to work your magic, big boy."

"Exactly, and if you think mum or someone might walk in on you- don't underestimate the thrill of pulling up your trousers just as the doorknob turns."

"And always remember-"

"_if you want a nice, firm dick, firewhiskey ain't your pick_," the twins recited in unison, looking very solemn with their hands over their hearts as if pledging their loyalty to the military.

"Right," Fred said happily, stepping towards the bed where Charlie sat, mouth gaping open and looking perfectly shell-shocked, "George and I are off on our own strumpet-hunting adventures from here on out. But don't hesitate-"

"-to bang anything that moves," George interjected, giving Charlie a brotherly slap on the back. "You've been off with nothing but big, muscled blokes taming dragons for far too long, and we're staring to worry-"

"-that there's some deeply disturbing metaphor hidden in that behavior. Didn't want to look too closely at the implications, though." Fred and George grinned at Charlie, who just shook his head slightly, apparently dazed by all the information they'd thrown at him.

"Now, go stir up some trouble," George ordered.

"Make us proud," Fred added, winking cheekily.

"It is your welcome-home party after all."

The older Weasley finally managed to form a semi-coherent thought, but the twins had already linked arms and disapparated with a resounding _pop._

Charlie blinked several times, his wide blue eyes puzzled as he sat on the bed in the twins' room, trying to work out everything that had been said over the past hour. They were worried about all the time he'd spent surrounded by men? What was wrong with that? Charlie was a man's man, and he'd always had plenty of fun hanging out with all those guys on the reserve in Romania. If they were hinting that he was into blokes, well… well, there was nothing _wrong _with that, but Charlie had always appreciated a big, bouncing pair of knockers far too much to be interested in shagging a bloke. As it was, he didn't see why the twins had insisted on giving him a sex talk.

_Granted_, Charlie thought to himself, blushing slightly as he ran a hand over the back of his neck, _the sex talk the twins just gave was _far_ more detailed than anything I could have told anyone at their age._

_Or now, _he added with a grimace.

He supposed they were right, after all. Charlie hadn't been with a woman since his days at Hogwarts, and the years had flown by so fast that he hadn't realized just how long ago that was. Still feeling a bit uncomfortable with the idea that his younger brothers were vastly more experienced than himself in matters of the flesh, Charlie set off downstairs for his welcome home party, his head crowded with musings on what an Australian Death Grip could possibly be, and how it was supposed to help him break his dry streak.

.'.'.'.'.'.

The kitchen of the Burrow was positively filled to the brim with people, some of whom Charlie was entirely sure he'd never seen before in his entire life. He grinned at everyone he passed as he made his way through the throng of bodies, but he actually felt quite uncomfortable. There was a reason Charlie had chosen to spend a great portion of his life tucked away in a remote Romanian village. He certainly didn't _dislike _people, but unlike the rest of his siblings he'd never been terribly comfortable being right in the thick of things. With a great sigh of relief, he picked out the short, bustling form of his mum. She was scrambling around the stove, her wand flying as she attempted to do a hundred things at once.

She looked up when he got close though, and she beamed at him, her arms flying around him in one of those embraces Charlie was sure only his mum could give.

"Oh, I was wondering where you'd gotten off to!" she exclaimed, letting go of him and pushing a plate piled high with all of his favorite foods into his hands. "The twins were supposed to have brought you down about thirty minutes ago!"

Charlie blanched at the mention of the twins. He'd always felt that his mother possessed a small amount of talent in mind reading, especially when it came to him, and he was terrified that she might somehow hear the little lecture the twins had given him earlier through his thoughts. He forced his mind to think of anything else, but the most he could seem to do was picture a pair of knitting needles miming crude sexual acts.

Mrs. Weasley shot him an odd look that did nothing to dispel his suspicion of her hidden talent, but didn't say anything further. He hastily gave her another hug before running off somewhere a little more secluded, away from the masses of people that had started to make his head spin. The yelling and laughing and being bumped into wasn't awful, but he would take dragons over a party like this any day.

Charlie made his was to the living room, which seemed to be even more packed of that were possible. He saw his oldest brother Bill sitting on a couch with his was Fleur, and made his way over to them eagerly. It turned out that the whole world seemed to be against him today, though. As soon as he reached the couch, Bill whistled and the twins popped out of nowhere.

"We knew you'd make this hard on yourself," Fred sighed, sounding aggrieved. He and George had both seized one of Charlie's biceps, and Bill seemed to be in on it, too. He was grinning up at Charlie while Fleur giggled at his side.

"Unless you plan on trying to seduce Fleur or me," Bill said, grinning even more broadly at the shocked look on Charlie's face, "you can just head off somewhere else right now. You aren't going to use us as an excuse not to... _enjoy _your party properly."

Charlie looked to Fleur for some sort of help, hoping that, as a woman, she might find his brothers forcing him into banging some unsuspecting girl a bit offensive. She just giggled even harder, her face a bit red as she brushed her silvery hair out of her face.

The twins frog-marched him away from Bill and Fleur, forcing him back out into the kitchen.

"So far you've only talked to mum and Bill," George said as they dragged him through the kitchen and towards the back yard.

"And unless you're a bit more twisted than we thought, we don't think that counts as going after a bit of arse," Fred finished.

They let his arms go as they reached the back yard, but Charlie barely noticed. He didn't see the mischievous smirks the twins gave each other behind his back. In fact, at that moment he only had eyes for the scene directly in front of him, which contained, funnily enough, a big, bouncing pair of knockers.

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**_A/N: _**First attempt at a Charlie story!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Taming Dragons with Bedsheets**_

_Chapter Two: Fairy Rings and Trampolines

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_

Hermione hadn't really dealt with children very much in her life(a sad side-effect of spending half of one's time battling the forces of darkness), but she was finding that she rather liked the challenge of chasing little James Potter and the even tinier Lunaphilius Longbottom around the Weasley's large, gnome-infested back yard. Things had been a bit tense for Hermione around the Weasley home since her falling out with Ron a few weeks ago, but now that there were the two children to look after she had an excuse to keep more or less to herself. As James and Lunaphilius (Lunette, as Hermione had nicknamed her) ran in circles around her legs, Hermione wiped a hand across her brow, realizing exactly how warm the day had gotten. She looked around the yard, checking to see if any other adults were outside. Mrs. Weasley had either served lunch, or everyone had deemed the weather too stuffy, because she was quite alone except for the children. Hermione gratefully peeled off her short-sleeve button-up, reveling in the feeling of the cool breeze over her tank top.

James and Lunette didn't seem to notice the newly, slightly-less clothed, but still decently dressed, Hermione. They were too busy wrestling over a toy broomstick, James' height giving him a slight advantage. When he tugged the thing completely from Lunette's grasp, the little blonde girl burst into frantic tears, tugging on Hermione's jeans and screaming unintelligibly.

"Now, now," Hermione said soothingly, patting the child on her head as she chewed her bottom lip, searching for something that would keep _both _children happy. A fairy ring nearby reminded Hermione suddenly of something from her own childhood, and she beamed, pulling her wand from her back pocket.

Lunette instantly quieted, watching the wand with interest. Hermione waved it in a complicated pattern, her eyes shut in concentration as she muttered under her breath. James had realized that a bit of magic was being done as well, and he circled closer on the little toy broom, his toes sweeping over the high grass. The two children watched in fascination as the fairy ring grew, the toadstool stalks turning into thin metal bars, the large round tops joining together to form a shiny black surface made out of some material that looked very springy.

"What _is _it?" James demanded, pushing his glasses up high on his little nose.

Lunette was staring at is with wide gray eyes, increasing her resemblance to her mother by ten-fold.

Hermione tucked her wand back in her pocket and grinned at the two children, feeling a bit proud of herself. "It's called a trampoline. Muggles use them to jump around, and they're quite fun."

James had gotten off his broom, and he was circling the little trampoline as if waiting for it to morph back into nothing but a heap of mushrooms.

"How does it work?" he asked, blinking up at Hermione.

"Well, you just get on it and jump. Here, I'll show you." She walked over to James and lifted him onto the trampoline, then quickly helped Lunette up as well. Hermione then climbed up herself, and bounced up and down.

She outweighed the two children a good bit, and with every bounce she sent them flying a few feet into the air. After the initial shock of being launched into the air, they seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. Indeed, when Hermione had begun to feel quite tired and tried to get down from the trampoline they absolutely refused to let her go.

"Stay, stay!" Lunette squealed in delight, rolling around on her back across the black surface.

"Bounce us again, again, again!" James demanded, and Hermione laughed in delight, pushing aside her exhaustion and jumping again.

A wolf-whistle from the direction of the Burrow made Hermione freeze in midair, which was a bad idea as she ended up falling on her arse. Huffing angrily and trying to ignore the peals of laughter from her young charges, Hermione struggled to her feet, hands on her hips, glaring at the three red-headed Weasleys that stood a dozen feet away.

The wolf-whistle had clearly come from the twins who were positively howling with laughter on either side of their older brother Charlie. Charlie, at least, had the decency to look extremely embarrassed.

"Didn't know you were an acrobat, Hermione."

"Yeah, really nice form on the dismount there."

Fred waggled his eyebrows suggestively, grinning roguishly. "Then again, you've got quite a nice form all over, eh, George?"

"Agreed."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Hermione, who was having more trouble dealing with the injury to her ego than the throbbing in her tail-bone. Then another breeze blew across her skin, and her eyes flew to the crumpled up blue fabric of her discarded button-up. Her cheeks flamed red and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You two are _awful_. Why don't you go bother someone else for once?"

The twins just grinned more broadly, gave Hermione a ridiculously low bow, and then disapparated, leaving a thoroughly red-faced Charlie standing awkwardly and staring uneasily at his feet.

Hermione hurriedly replaced her button-up, snapping the buttons closed all the way up to her chin and shifted her weight uneasily from one foot to another.

"Er…" she mumbled, feeling as if she ought to say something to poor Charlie who looked even more uncomfortable than she felt, "when did you get back?"

"Ab_out_-" Charlie cleared his throat, turning even more red as his voice cracked on the last syllable. "About two hours ago."

"Oh," Hermione said, casting around for something else to say. Of all the Weasleys, Charlie was the one Hermione had conversed with the least. "Well, it's…it's good to see you, Charlie. I'm glad you're home."

Charlie finally looked up from his well-worn work boots, and Hermione was pleased to see that some of the redness had faded from his face. He grinned at her hesitantly. "Thanks. It's…well, it's a bit weird being back, honestly."

James and Lunette had apparently grown bored with this adult conversation, and they were tugging on Hermione's hair, attempting to pull her back onto the trampoline.

"Why is it weird?" Hermione managed, trying to focus on Charlie as her back was assaulted with tiny fists.

"Play, play, _play, PLAY!"_ the children chanted behind her.

Sighing in exasperation, Hermione smiled apologetically at Charlie. "Sorry, they're incorrigible. I'm sure you'd rather be enjoying your party inside, anyway."

Charlie seemed to pale a bit at the mention of his party, and he grinned sheepishly at Hermione. "Actually, if it's alright with you, I wouldn't mind staying out here for a while. Parties aren't really my thing, you know."

Hermione inwardly snorted in disbelief. A Weasley that didn't enjoy partying? She didn't voice her disbelief though, instead offering her hand to Charlie to help haul him onto the trampoline.

"What _is _this, anyway?" he asked as he gingerly tested the fabric with his hands.

"A tram-poe-lean," James explained eagerly, bouncing happily around on his bum. Charlie shot Hermione an inquisitive look, but she was busy being pulled around by little Lunette. Charlie gave an exploratory jump, but found he didn't much like the way the black fabric gave to his weight. He sat down on the trampoline's edge, content to watch Hermione bounce around with the two children clutching to either of her legs.

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**_A/N: _**Aw, thanks for the great reviews. Ummmm, I got a few questions about what exactly an Australian Death Grip was, so here it goes:

**Australian Death Grip -** The act of grabbing a woman by the haunches/crotch and staring deeply into her eyes until you're slapped or kissed. A recommended tactic for very crowded bars. A great opportunity for wagering among friends.

Oh dear. Well this chapter was much less... I'm not sure what to say. Possibly offensive? Either way, this is the chapter? Hope it was decent? I'm entirely flustered by this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Taming Dragons with Bedsheets**_

_Chapter Three: Melons, Mammaries, Sweater Puppies, and Charleys

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_

"He's hopeless," George hissed to Fred as the two of them peered out of their bedroom window.

"Dead hopeless. We invited tons of eager young witches to his welcome-home party-"

"And he's gone and hidden away in the back yard with Hermione Granger and some toddlers."

The twins sighed heavily, Fred pacing across the floor and George plopping down onto his bed. After a moment of silence, Fred groaned in frustration.

"It's our fault. I meant it as a bit of a joke when we took him out to the back yard! I didn't think he'd hole up with the biggest prude in England."

George nodded, glaring down at his hands in thought. "Not that Hermione being a prude is a bad thing. I think I rather prefer it that way."

"Well, yeah, me too," Fred said, waving his hand dismissively. "She's like a sister. Which is _another _reason Charlie isn't going to get any asre by just sitting around on that freak bouncing table thing."

George left the bed, restlessly making his way to stare out the window again. "It's her baps, I'll bet you anything. If the magazines beneath old Charlie's floorboards are any indication- and having studied them thoroughly myself, I believe they are- our older brother is a tits-man."

"Yeah, I reckon she grew into a right set of knockers when we weren't looking," Fred lamented, joining George at the window.

They sighed in unison again, not even stirring from their mournful vigil when their bedroom door flew open.

"What're you two up to?" demanded their very-pregnant younger sister. Ginny forced herself between them to determine what was so interesting outside the window. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted Charlie sitting with Hermione, Lunette, and James.

"Well, he's gone and screwed our little plan six ways from Sunday," she assessed easily, and Fred and George rolled their eyes.

"Not our fault she was jumping around on that Muggle contraption with her cans bouncing about when we stepped outside," Fred muttered under his breath.

Ginny turned quickly and began pacing the path that Fred had given up only a short time before. "Oh, he's a complete _boob_ when it comes to talking to girls. Even if there _were_ a shot in hell at him getting in dear Hermione's knickers, he's probably already blown it a thousand times over if they've been talking for more than five minutes."

"Well," George reasoned glumly, "I guess the bright side there is we haven't seen him say much. He's just been sitting there watching her bounce around."

"If by _her _you mean '_her rack'_," Fred groaned, face in his hands.

"Hopeless," Ginny muttered, shaking her head as she ran a hand over her swollen stomach, apparently thinking very hard.

The door to the room opened again, but this time it wasn't a Weasley that entered.

"Oi, you lot. Your mum's going crazy looking for you," Harry said seriously, not even bothering to ask what the twins and his wife were up to plotting now.

"Not now," Ginny said, waving a hand impatiently in the same manner as her brother had earlier. "We're trying to help poor Charlie."

Harry snorted, sure that any plan that required the twins and Ginny to hide away in a bedroom putting their heads together could hardly end up helping anyone. "Help poor Charlie what? Give the bloke a break; he's just gotten back, after all!"

The twins rolled their eyes, but Ginny just looked at Harry affectionately as if he were a cute, but rather stupid, pet. "Don't worry your head about it, darling. Tell mum that the three of us will be down in a minute."

Though he looked entirely unconvinced by her order not to worry, Harry seemed grateful to have any reason not to be in on their scheme. He ducked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"So what are we going to do?" George asked as soon as the door was shut. "Charlie's been here barely two hours and he's already well on his way to cock-blocking himself all the way back to Romania."

"Well, there are two options," Ginny said, leaning against the window frame as her thoughtful eyes followed the small form of her son chasing Hermione around the trampoline. "First, we can find a good old-fashioned tart and shove her in Charlie's direction."

"She'll need to have some pretty impressive hooters to win over Charlie," Fred warned. George grinned but Ginny just shrugged.

"If it comes down to it, there's always a good Growing Charm I learned back in my third year," she said dismissively.

Her brothers' heads snapped around and they glared at her. "Not funny," they chorused.

"Good thing I wasn't joking then," Ginny quipped, rolling her eyes at their horrified expressions. "Honestly. I learned it from the two of you, if you hadn't realized that already. Don't think I didn't hear you late at night, giggling up in this room, trying to enlarge your-"

"_Anyway_," Fred interjected, holding up a hand to stop her ranting. "What's your second option?"

"We find a way to get him with Hermione," Ginny answered simply. When both twins snorted in disbelief, she grinned. "You'd be surprised how much Hermione Granger will loosen up with the right amount of alcohol in her."

"She _drinks_?" the twins gasped, and Ginny giggled.

"Of course she does, you gits. She's not a complete saint, despite what you seem to think." The twins looked as if this were certainly news to them.

"So what do you think? Option A or Option B?" George finally asked, looking at his siblings.

"How about both? You can set to work trying to get him with Hermione, and I'll start hunting down a scarlet woman for when he inevitably sticks his foot so far in his mouth that Hermione'll never talk to him again," Fred suggested.

"And I'll go tell Bill and Perce the new plan," Ginny added. "It's probably best to leave Ron out of this one, though."

The three of them nodded in unison, and that was that. One way or another, the twins were going to ensure that Charlie had a completely different kind of twins in his hands before this party was over.

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_**A/N:**_ I think I used about six or seven different synonyms for breasts in this chapter, not including the chapter title. Phew! I stretched my brain a bit! Thanks for the reviews, as always! Hope you enjoyed.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Taming Dragons with Bedsheets**_

_Chapter Four: Keep Away From the Dragon

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_

After two hours on the trampoline with Hermione, Charlie was beginning to think that the twins were right- he was in desperate need of a good shag. When he wasn't being mesmerized by Hermione's joyfully bouncing cleavage, he was busy staring at his hands, trying to recite the uses of dragon's blood in order to calm his raging hormones. On the bright side, Charlie had always rather enjoyed playing with kids, and the two children running around Hermione on the trampoline were so hyper that he eventually had to shove his X-rated daydreams aside and help keep them entertained.

Hermione was showing clear signs of fatigue after about her hundredth lap around the trampoline with both children attached to either of her legs. She collapsed onto her knees, her face red and her hair flying in every direction.

"I can't go round again," she panted, fanning herself with one hand while trying to fend off tiny blonde Lunette with the other.

"But _My-knee_," the little girl whined, while James was bouncing up and down beside Hermione, tugging her hair viciously. "We want to _play_."

Hermione was so exhausted by this point that she looked close to tears, and Charlie decided it was time to step in. "Oi, you two. Have you ever played Keep Away From the Dragon?"

The two children looked up at him with wide eyes, apparently having completely forgotten his presence altogether before he'd spoken. He had been rather quiet, after all.

"No, what's that?" James asked, bouncing over to where Charlie was squatting on his haunches. The movement unsettled the red-headed dragon tamer who lost his balance and ended up sprawled on his back. The children giggled delightedly, instantly warming up to him.

"You're silly," little Lunette told Charlie shyly, her tiny thumb immediately popping into her mouth as she blushed and smiled up at him.

"What's the dragon game?" James demanded, plopping down next to Charlie and fixing him with wide green eyes.

"Well," Charlie said after he'd managed to right himself, "it's something we used to do when we were training in Romania. You've got to be pretty fast on your feet to work with dragons, so we always-"

"You've seen _dragons_?" James and Lunette demanded in unison, now looking at Charlie as if he were some sort of superhero. He blushed, and Hermione, who was catching her breath on the other side of the trampoline, rather liked him for it. A modest Weasley was a rare thing, after all.

"Y-yeah," Charlie stammered, catching Hermione's eye and looking back at the children quickly. "Yeah, anyway, we'd bewitch a big stone, which was the dragon, to roll around on the ground, chasing us, and we'd all have to dodge it, jump it, or…well, get hit by it, which isn't much fun at all. So how about we make it where one of _us_ is the dragon, and that person rolls across the trampoline, trying to tag the other players." He shifted uncomfortably, looking a bit unsure of himself. The children, however, seemed to think it was the single most brilliant idea anyone had ever uttered.

"Oh, _yes_!" James cried in delight, bouncing to his feet and nearly frantic with excitement. "Who'll be the dragon?"

Lunette was positively beside herself. "Oh, that sounds _so _fun, Charlie! You're so clever!"

Hermione caught Charlie's eye again, and he blushed even harder when he found that she was beaming at him. He stuttered a few seconds of nonsense before managing to get his head on straight again.

"I-I-I'll be the dragon first, if you want?" he offered to the two children, who were immediately taken with the idea.

"What the _bloody hell _is that idiot doing?" George cried, smacking his hand over his eyes. Ginny, Bill, and Fleur quickly made their way to the window in the living room as well, trying to see what was distressing the twin so much.

Bill groaned while Fleur burst into a fresh wave of giggles.

Ginny just shook her head sadly. "Have I said yet that he's hopeless? Because he is. He's dead hopeless."

The four of them stood and watched for a moment more as the muscular blur that was Charlie rolled across the trampoline while James and Lunette screamed with laughter, jumping over his middle or ducking around his feet.

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny asked suddenly, her sharp eyes picking out who was missing from the scene.

The four were silent until George crowed in disbelief. "She's-she's _there_! Beside the trampo-thing! _Laughing_!"

And indeed she was. Hermione could just be seen on the other side of the trampoline, doubled up in what looked very much like a fit of laughter.

Bill pursed his lips, shaking his head. "She _could _be clutching her ribs in pain. Maybe Charlie knocked her off the edge of that thing."

Ginny sighed. "Well, here's hoping for the first option."

"You were brilliant with that game," Hermione said breathlessly a bit later as she and Charlie sat at the picnic table near the Burrow's back door. The back yard had slowly started to fill with people as the sun went down and the weather cooled.

Charlie blushed again, and Hermione rather thought she could get used to having that effect on someone.

"Thanks. It really was part of our training in Romania, though. Except…" he pause, looking as if he'd lost his train of though entirely as he watched Hermione begin to sweep her hair up into a messy bun on the back of her neck. "Except…" Charlie repeated, his mouth a bit dry.

Hermione hadn't noticed Charlie becoming more and more flustered. Instead she was focused on the trampoline, which had been expanded to hold quite a few of the adult witches and wizards who'd been curious about the strange Muggle contraption. She grinned at Mr. Weasley, who looked as if he were well on his way to having the time of his life.

Charlie took her distraction as an opportunity to shake his head and clear his thoughts. "Except it was a bit more difficult, with the bewitched stone, I mean," he finished lamely, twisting his fingers together and staring hard at his hands.

Hermione finally looked back at him, and if he hadn't been so busy staring at his knotted fingers he might have noticed something very much like affection in her gaze.

"You're a bit different than the other Weasleys, Charlie," she said seriously.

Charlie, bless him, was entirely sure that was a bad thing.

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**_A/N: _**Thanks again for all of the great reviews everyone! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**_Taming Dragons with Bedsheets_**

_Chapter Five: The Twins Have a Surprise (Run Away)_

_(In Memory of Big Bad Bruce)_

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"So," said Harry, shifting his feet a bit awkwardly as he stood next to Hermione in the long line for the dinner buffet in the Weasley's backyard. "I…er…I noticed you spent quite a bit of time with Charlie Weasley today."

Hermione's sharp eyes flashed in a way that made Harry nervous, and he took the slightest step back. "_Why_ does everyone keep mentioning that? He was only helping me watch _your_ child!" Her lips were set in that firm line that told Harry she was in no mood to be lied to. "_What_ is going on, Harry?"

"What do you mean?" he hedged, trying to keep his voice from shaking as the dinner line moved up a bit farther. In his defense, he really didn't know _exactly _what was going on, or whether the twins' plan that involved Charlie actually involved Hermione as well. "I was just making an observation!" he added defensively when her nostrils flared.

"Well," Hermione snapped, turning away from him and crossing her arms over her chest, "it's just a bit strange that Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, _and even Percy_ all made the same observation. That's all."

"Oh," Harry said awkwardly, fervently wishing he'd just left Hermione to brood on her own, "right. Well, I better go check on James."

"Ginny put him to bed over an hour ago-" Hermione started to protest, but Harry had already ducked out of line and disappeared. Even more irritated than before, Hermione left the line queue as well. She was halfway back to the back door of the Burrow when someone's hand fell heavily on her shoulder, spinning her around to meet a pair of mischievous blue eyes.

"_What _do you want _now_?" Hermione demanded in exasperation, trying to shake George's hand away.

He grinned at her, having the good grace to look affronted at her obvious displeasure. "Why, Ms. Granger, what's gotten your knickers in a twist now?" he asked lightly.

Hermione scowled at him. "My knickers are none of your business, George! Now let me go. I'm dead tired from running after those children all day!"

"Bouncing after them, more like," said a voice from behind her, and she whirled to find Fred grinning at her just like his twin.

Too exhausted to be irritated, she let her shoulders slump as she watched the twins wearily. "Whatever you're going to do, just get it over with."

The twins exchanged shocked looks, apparently offended at the notion that they'd ever done anything harmful to anyone. "Well, I never!" Fred scoffed, while George faked a scowl.

Hermione didn't encourage them. Sensing her unwillingness to play along, George sighed and pulled a small box out of his back pocket. "Well, fine, if you aren't going to be any fun-"

Fred cut in. "We just wanted to give you a present, after all. It's the first time we've seen you since-"

"Ron was a git," George finished.

"A stupid git," Fred amended.

"And ugly. Don't forget ugly," added George as he offered her the box, a small cube wrapped in violently purple paper with an acid green bow at least three times the size of the present it was tied around. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she stared at the box, waiting on it to explode. Fred rolled his eyes.

"Just take it, Hermione. It won't bite."

"Or blow up."

"Or turn your hands into tentacles."

"Or make the sun fall out of the sky."

"Or make Ron into Wizard of the Year."

"Well, I don't think anything on earth could do _that_," Fred said thoughtfully, tapping a finger to his jaw.

"Oh, _alright_," Hermione sighed, gingerly accepting the present from George. He beamed at her, and each twin wrapped an arm tight around her shoulder. She fought back a grin, happy to feel as if she were at last welcome back in the Weasley family.

When they let her loose, Hermione made to continue her path back into the Burrow, but the twins grabbed her again.

"And where do you think you're going?" George demanded, looking scandalized.

"Up to bed. Like I told you, I'm exhausted." Before she'd even launched her explanation, Hermione had sensed that the twins weren't going to let her off so easily.

"Without watching Mum force Charlie into the spotlight to cut his welcome home cake?"

"Without watching the mayhem we have planned for the second the knife touches the icing?"

"Without opening your present?" they finished in unison, glaring at her.

"Oh, _alright_," Hermione practically yelled, allowing the twins to guide her to the large picnic table that held an even larger spectacularly, awfully, bright orange cake. The great thing seemed to light up the darkening sky around it, and Hermione had a fairly good idea that the twins had been involved with its construction.

Mrs. Weasley was standing next to an awfully red-faced Charlie, attempting to get the attention of the vast crowd. When she failed, Fred and George stepped in, sending a glittering, flame-spewing dragon in the air from their wand tips. The party fell silent except for a few gasped, "oohs" and "aaahs".

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat again before launching into a longwinded, tearful speech about how wonderful Charlie was, and Hermione was quite sure that, by the third word his mother had said, Charlie was more than ready to sink into the ground and never emerge again.

When the speech had ended and Mrs. Weasley proudly handed the knife to Charlie to cut the great monstrosity of a cake, Hermione had a flash of intuition and stepped a bit further back into the crowd, putting as much space and cushion between herself and the confection as possible. Unfortunately, it turned out that there was very little she could have done, short of blowing up the cake with her wand, that would have kept the magic in the cake's icing from reaching her.

* * *

**_A/N:_** Oh goodness:( I am very, very sad. Dear Uga VIII died after only serving as our mascot for half a season. He was very young, and I was there on the sidelines the day they transferred the collar to him. He looked so handsome and proud. I know it may seem silly to be this upset over losing a school mascot, but he's a very large part of life at UGA. Goodness:( So this chapter is dedicated to **Big Bad Bruce, **_aka UGA VIII. _A Damn Good Dawg.

Okay, while I am still in mourning with the rest of Uga's very large family, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Love, DC.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Taming Dragons with Bedsheets_**

_Chapter Six: The Uses of Dragon's Blood

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_

Charlie had never much liked traveling by portkey. When he was only four years old, he's happened across an interesting-looking Muggle device in the Burrow's backyard. Excited at the prospect of playing around with one of his father's beloved contraband Muggle objects, Charlie had gleefully snatched the thing up from the ground. Instantly, before he'd even had a chance to go and show Bill his rare find, Charlie felt the most awful sensation in his stomach and then BAM ended up smack dab in the middle of a huge, crowded building he would later come to know as the Ministry of Magic. His parents had realized he was missing within half an hour, and they had begun a frantic search of the countryside. After almost two hours of tiny four year old Charlie crying his way around the Ministry, an older witch had recognized his flaming red hair and promptly flooed him back to the Burrow (another sensation he didn't much care for) along with a rather strongly worded letter telling his parents that they needed to be more responsible and keep a better watch on their children. Charlie blanched even at the memory of his mother's face as she'd read through that note, and he had purposefully blocked the memory of the rest of that day from his mind.

The sensation of a portkey was quite bad enough, but to feel the sensation when he'd least been expecting it was a bit more than he could handle. Spending a third of your life with a handful of rough-and-tumble men and two lesbians was enough to give anyone a bit of a choice vocabulary, and as Charlie tumbled face first onto a hard wood floor, he wasn't one to disappoint.

Hermione regained her senses to the most drawn out, interesting string of curses she'd heard in her entire life. It was a small relief though that she at least recognized the voice hissing the profanities a few inches from her ear. Just as a rather disgruntled, disoriented Charlie was about to let the absent twins know exactly _where_ he thought they could shove a Horntail's spike, he felt movement beneath him and froze.

Hermione, though uncomfortable with the full and considerable weight of a fully-grown Charlie Weasley on her, had been quite interested to hear him finish off his speech (it was far more words in a single sitting than she'd yet to hear him say, and far more profanity in a single breath than she'd yet to hear in her entire life), but she'd had to adjust her position before she died of asphyxiation. She was rather disappointed when Charlie froze mid-swear.

Her disappointment was eased greatly by the ridiculous look on his face when he realized she was there. It was quite comical: his light blue eyes grew to the size of Galleons, and his jaw hung slack. He was very, very close, and Hermione found herself counting the tiny scars that crisscrossed his face, almost unnoticeable from any farther away than the few inches she was at this very moment.

In the back of her mind, she wondered why neither of them had made any effort to become disentangled. Probably still a bit shocked about being wrenched away from the party by whatever joke the twins had pulled.

Charlie finally managed to get the breath back in him and gasp out, "Hermione?"

He realized his face must look a bit silly, because she was clearly fighting back the urge to laugh.

"Yes, Charlie, I'm Hermione."

He felt his face burn redder than it'd ever been in his life for several reasons. He had just now realized why the floor hadn't felt quite as hard as it should (there was a Hermione nestled snugly beneath him), and that he had let loose his impressive string of curses in a lady's presence. And not just _any _lady. Hermione Granger. He groaned, trying his best to roll of her, but only managing to get his watch strap caught in her mass of curls.

"_Ouch!_" she cried when his wristwatch nearly yanked out half of her hair. Her eyes were watering, and he felt awful that he'd hurt her.

"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry!" he mumbled, fumbling with shaking hands to dislodge the watch from her hair. He was doing everything in his power not to focus on the way her legs were loosely held to either side of him, or the way her chest brushed against his as she continued to laugh helplessly at how flustered he was.

"Oh, you're quite hopeless, aren't you?" Hermione gasped, taking pity on him finally when it seemed that all his shaking hands had managed to accomplish was getting the watch tangled in even more of her hair. She moved to pull her wand out of her back pocket, but then they both froze simultaneously.

Hermione was a very bright young woman, and usually considered all the consequences of an action before she took it. She was fairly inexperienced however with matters of bodies and how they reacted to each other, so she couldn't have foreseen that when she lifted her bum off the ground to get at her wand, she would be pressing her hips into Charlie's pelvis, causing both of their breaths to catch in their throats.

Time stood still for a second before the room became almost unbearably warm. Charlie's eyes had returned to their impossibly huge imitation of a pair of Galleons, and his lips were parted slightly. When he managed to take a breath, it was ragged and his lungs seemed to have kicked into double-time.

"Sorry," he mumbled, but his voice seemed much deeper before, rumbling through his own chest and down into Hermione's. The feeling was unbelievable pleasant, and she very much wanted him to say something else.

No part of her formidable brain bothered to remind her that she still had her rounded hips pressed firmly into the sharp angular ones of Charlie Weasley.

Charlie was trying very hard not to do anything wrong. Of all of his siblings, he had taken his mother's warning of how to treat a lady the most seriously. He could not, however, control his body's reaction to having Hermione's soft body pressed so firmly and unexpectedly against his front.

He squeezed his eyes shut, working through the uses of dragon's blood for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

_Use number one.._

Oh, why wouldn't she just move her little body away, end this sweet torture, make him sane again?

_The first use is…uh…_

Oh, god, and the way her tiny breaths flew against his neck, tickling his skin in the most delightful way.

_FOCUS, CHARLES. THE FIRST USE-_

He could feel the swell of her breasts pressed against his own chest, rising and falling with her quickened breathing.

_Dragon's blood- oh fuck it_

_ Please move your hips please move your hips please move your hips_

Hermione watched with indecent interest as a whole host of emotions played across the red-head's face. It started out with a sort of glazed-look coming over his eyes, then he'd squeezed them shut as if to block her out. A few seconds passed as his face relaxed and tensed over and over, as if he were arguing with himself. Then, with his eyes still closed, she watched in fascination as his tongue rolled over his bottom lip, followed by his teeth clamping down on the soft pink skin.

Her breath hitched again and his eyes flew open at the sound. Without even realizing what she was about to do, Hermione reached up and ran her index finger over his bottom lip, smoothing out the marks left by his teeth.

His blue eyes, instead of widening as she had expected (if she'd really expected anything, she hadn't really even anticipated her own action) slid closed and he let out a shaky breath around her finger.

"Hermione," he practically growled, and she was delighted as his voice rolled through her own chest again. His golden-red hair was ruffled and it fell over his face. Hermione, feeling a bit brave or reckless, reached up a tentative hand and brushed the hair away.

He opened his eyes again, and she nearly melted. The light blue had been replaced with a warm, rich darkness that set her blood on fire.

Vaguely, Hermione had a thought of "moving too fast" followed by "twins are behind this", but she pushed those thoughts away when Charlie's lips pressed softly, but quite firmly, against her own.

* * *

**_A/n: _**After I looked back over this, I realized I didn't exactly explain what the twins did. So if you couldn't guess, here it is:

They set up a portkey in the cake's icing that would simultaneously trigger the present in Hermione's hand to activate as a portkey as well, whisking her and Charlie away to a different location.

So there's that. Not a great joke, but good for what they wanted to accomplish.

Thanks for the reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

_**Taming Dragons With Bedsheets**_

_Chapter Seven: What Must Be Dragons

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_

Hermione could count the number of people she'd kissed on one hand. She divided her love life into two categories- Before and After Viktor. Before Krum, she had been kissed twice: once by a Muggle neighbor named Ted when she was far too young for it to count, and once by a Ravenclaw boy in her first year, though she was pretty sure he had done it on a dare. Then there was Krum, the first male in her life to ever treat her as if she were a woman. He had been all lean muscle and awkward angles and quiet intensity, and when she went to sleep in her bed alone most nights he was the one she remembered. After Viktor, there was Cormac. Hermione regretted that with all her heart. It was by far the worst kiss in the history of the universe, and she quickly tried to move past that memory. Finally, there was Ron Weasley. It had been what she expected; a bit awkward as they tried to move from friendship to something more, and very hesitant on his part as he spent most of the time doubting himself. That was Ron with his only two settings: complete self-doubt, or complete egotistical jackass. But she'd loved him, anyway.

Needless to say, things hadn't lasted. If they had, she would hardly be laying in some unknown room, mercilessly snogging his older brother.

Charlie's weight was still heavy on her, but it was in a way that was anything but unpleasant. She ran her hands through his hair, amazed by how feathery and soft it felt. She was equally amazed by the way he kissed her- she didn't really want to compare him against his brother, but she couldn't help it. He was soft and slow, but far from hesitant.

Charlie wasn't sure what the hell he was doing, but he just hoped that Hermione wasn't going to beat the shit out of him or hate him when he stopped. If he stopped. At the moment, he felt like he wouldn't stop what he was doing even if the roof caved in.

And sweet merciful love of _god_, what was she doing with her hands? Everywhere they touched, whether they were running through his hair or skimming over his t-shirt, it felt like he had been set on fire, but in the best possible way. Apparently, magic was running rampant through his blood because the knot her hair had formed on his watch was quite gone, and he didn't waste any time putting his hands to use as well.

Hermione didn't recall Charlie getting his hand loose, but she wasn't complaining. One calloused palm brushed across her cheek as the other gripped her hip tightly, holding her against him. She wasn't used to the waves of sensation that seemed to come from every direction, wasn't used to how every one of her nerves and senses seemed to be heightened to superhuman levels. Charlie smelled delicious, like fire, like outdoors, like wild musk and what must be dragons. She found, when he broke away from her mouth for a second to breathe, that he left the faintest taste of something very sweet on her lips.

And suddenly he wasn't focused on her lips anymore. He kissed her jaw, her pulse, the crook beneath her ear, and her heart hammered in her chest. Nope, nope, nope, of all the things Hermione Granger knew, this wasn't one of them. She found she'd rather like to keep learning though.

If only things could really work out that easily.

Right as Charlie returned to kissing her on the lips, there were two loud pops followed by a very deep, uncomfortable silence as both Charlie and Hermione froze against each other.

"Well _they _didn't waste much time," said a rather disbelieving, but very amused voice from above them.

Charlie rolled off of Hermione, allowing the two of them to glare up at the twins with much more ease.

"Doesn't look like they even moved an inch from where they landed," the other twin observed, grinning toothily.

"Righto," George said, putting on a very businesslike demeanor. "You lot just pretend like we never, ever apparated."

"That's right. Just return to your previous activities. Whatever those were," Fred added, his eyes gleaming like they always did when a prank turned out better than expected.

"We didn't see anything," the twins swore in unison, crossing their hearts. They disapparated a second later, leaving the room ringing with their barely contained mirth.

Hermione sat up, hurriedly straightening her blouse and looking anywhere but at Charlie. What on _earth_ had gotten into her? How had they gone from innocently watching children in the garden to snogging frantically in what appeared to be Fred and George's old bedroom?

Charlie was red-faced again, something that was happening much more within the last eight hours than had happened over his nearly a decade spent in Romania. He got to his feet, turning quickly away from Hermione as he once _again_ recited the stupid uses for stupid dragon's blood. He'd have to get the damn thing tattooed on his forearm at this rate.

When he was decent, he turned around to see a very rumpled-looking Hermione. He had to admit he didn't altogether dislike the way her clothes were wrinkled and her hair stuck up a bit more than usual, or the pink tinge to her cheeks. Trying to grin as if nothing had happened, he offered her a hand to help her up.

"That was…uh…" Charlie paused, unsure of what to say as he hauled her to her feet. "Something. That was really something."

Hermione surprised him by giving a hysterical little giggle that died away almost immediately as she composed herself. "Yes, it surely was. I…I suppose we'd better head back to the party now."

Charlie knew she was right. His mum was probably in a panic. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd already had the party-goers forming search parties by now.

"You'd better go down first; I'm sure they're missing you a bit more," Hermione continued, trying unsuccessfully to straighten out her wild curls. "I'll head down a bit later, so it looks less suspicious."

Charlie gave her a parting smile, fighting the urge to tell her that he wouldn't at all mind if they went back to his party looking as suspicious as possible, and also that she should just leave her hair that way because it was rather fetching. Maybe that was just because he was the one that had mussed it. He ducked out of the room, entirely shocked as the realization of what had just transpired finally hit him.

Hermione Granger. _Damn_.

Hermione rushed to the bathroom, taking in her frazzled exterior and thinking it wasn't even close to looking as chaotic as she felt on the inside. She'd royally mucked that up alright. First of all, Charlie was going to think she was some loose floozy. He'd already watched her bouncing around on a trampoline with only a tank top on, and now she'd snogged him on the floor of his childhood home after only spending a day getting to know him. To make matters worse, the second they'd stopped kissing she had slipped into Bossy Hermione Mode.

She pulled out her wand and forced her clothes and hair back into some semblance of order, and set her jaw. The party couldn't last much longer now, and after it was done she could return to her flat in London and never have to shame-facedly see Charlie again.

Even if she very, very, very much wanted to.

* * *

**_A/N: _**The inevitable Fred/George interruption. Thanks for the reviews! Sorry about updates slowing down, but at least they're still relatively fast. Right? Maybe?


	8. Chapter 8

_**Taming Dragons with Bedsheets**_

_Chapter Eight: Falling For It Twice_

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"You blew it!" the twins screamed in unison when Charlie entered his old bedroom a few hours later after the party ended and the guests had all gone home. Charlie jumped nearly a foot in the air before glaring at the two of them, arms crossed over his chest.

"If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, _you two _blew it, not me," Charlie snapped, turning away from the twins and going to his still-packed bags to pull out a pair of flannel pants to sleep in. He didn't catch the look the twins exchanged behind his back, but maybe that was for the best.

"It was clever, though, wasn't it?" Fred pressed, grinning now.

George was grinning as well. "Yeah, we've been perfecting those un-portkeys for a while now. That was our first test on a double one though."

Charlie shook his head, stripping down and pulling his pajamas on. "So you tested your dangerous shit on your brother and school friend?"

The twins shrugged. "So, anyway, what are we going to do now? We swore you'd get some ass before the night was done-"

"And we've still got about forty minutes to midnight," Fred added, glancing down at his watch.

Charlie groaned, flopping down on his bed and shoving his fists into his eyes, hoping it would make the twins go away. He was too tired for all this. "Just give it up, you two. I'm not in the mood for this."

"Fine," George said, shrugging.

"Night," Fred finished. If Charlie had been paying attention, he would've noticed the twins point their wands at the water glass beside his bed, and he _probably _would have avoided his next action. When he heard the twins shut his door, he sat up and grabbed the glass to swig some water before sleeping.

For the second time that day, Charlie swore loudly as he felt the hook sensation in his navel. He was pretty sure where he was going to end up, but that still didn't prepare him for the shrill screaming that filled his ears when he appeared in Hermione's bed a second later.

He didn't blame her for freaking out. She'd been through a lot of shit in her life, and having someone appear beside her in bed in the pitch dark was probably not something her mind was equipped to handle when she was half asleep. She was still screaming, trying to scramble away from him and wailing hexes when she stopped screaming to gasp for breath.

Charlie did the only thing he could really think of, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up into a sitting position leaning against his chest.

"Shhhh, sorry sorry sorry," he chanted quietly, trying to get her to realize it was him and not some revenge-seeking ex-Death Eater.

Her screams died away, replaced by dry sobs. Her shoulders shook and she buried her face against his shoulder, trying to clutch at his shirt. The problem was that he wasn't wearing one.

Hermione had calmed down enough to recognize that it was Charlie Weasley who had appeared suddenly in her bed. Her heart was still beating a thousand miles a second, and her momentary terror was enough to leave her eyes prickling with terrified tears. She'd been smack in the middle of a nightmare about her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange when he had popped in out of nowhere, and for a second she had forgotten that all that was over. To calm herself, she focused on the radiating warmth from his skin, the faint thudding of his pulse where her ear was pressed to the side of his neck, the wonderful smell of him. It was comforting, waking up out of her ever present nightmares to find a pair of strong arms and kind words.

Hermione turned her head slightly so that her lips were pressed to the side of his throat, and she pressed down lightly. She felt his breath catch in his throat and his pulse raced to double-time beneath her lips. Charlie's arms tightened convulsively around her, and he let out a shaky laugh.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, her voice still rough from sleeping and screaming in quick succession.

Charlie shook his head slightly, his hands running up and down her back in light patterns. "Just wondering how the twins get away with stuff like this all the time," he murmured into her hair.

Hermione chuckled, too, her breath creating goose bumps on his bare shoulder. "I've always wondered that as well," she admitted, running her fingertips over his chest experimentally. She wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't just dreaming this whole thing up, but either way a half-clothed Charlie in her bed was a half-clothed Charlie in her bed. She was on enough of a dry streak romantically that she wouldn't turn him down, and there was a good chance she wouldn't have turned him down even without he rough luck with romance lately.

"They know what they're doing, though, don't they?" Charlie breathed, shivering slightly as her light touch trailed over his stomach and then back up to his neck. Instead of answering, Hermione nipped at his collar bone, her teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin. Charlie groaned, turning his head to the side and swearing quietly.

Puzzled, Hermione leaned back, trying to see into his face. She could make out the hot blush on his cheeks, which was mirrored on her own, and also a bit of shame or something of the like. Perplexed, she reached up and ran her hand along his jaw, trying to pull his face to look at her. He complied, his blue eyes weary.

"What's wrong? What'd I do?" she asked, worried that she had already managed to cross some boundary of his.

Charlie sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "I… uh… Hermione, I haven't been with anyone in…in a _long _time. I mean, _years. _And _years_." He grimaced, not meeting her eyes. "This is… Everything feels…" Charlie gritted his teeth in irritation with himself, and finally just spat out what he'd been trying to say. "I'm no good at this sort of thing, Hermione. Never have been."

Hermione snorted, causing Charlie to look up at her in surprise. She shook her head in exasperation, leaning forward so that her forehead was pressed against his.

"Charlie Weasley, I'll have you know that _I _haven't been with anyone in quite a while either. And also, if earlier today was any indication, I'd say you're _very_ good at this kind of thing," she said quietly, blushing a bit more than she wanted to as she stared into Charlie's eyes. He blinked at her, and she could feel the warmth from his cheeks and her own mixing in the few centimeters of space between them. He began to open his mouth to say something, but Hermione took matters into her own hands, pressing her lips to his swiftly, pushing him back until his back hit the sheets and his head with cradled by her pillow. Charlie was surprised, but more than happy to comply with what she was obviously asking him for.

Hermione ran her hands over his bare chest again, delighting in the warmth and the way his thick muscles jumped at her lightest touch. There were burns all along his torso, and she broke away from kissing him in order to inspect the shining pink marks on his otherwise tanned, freckled skin. Charlie watched her with his breath caught somewhere in the back of his throat as she sat astride his hips, the only barriers between them being his pajama pants and her cotton shorts. When her fingers began to lightly trace the edges of the burns from years of dragon work, Charlie let his eyes slide closed, reveling in the feeling of her tiny warm hands sliding across his body. Between the wonderful pressure of her sitting right _there _in exactly the right place, the tiny patterns her fingers traced on the his stomach, and the white tank top that wasn't doing much to cove her chest, Charlie found that he was long past being angry with the twins, and he only hoped that they wouldn't repeat their earlier mistake of popping in to check on him this time.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Sorry this took so long. College is getting ridiculous. So is the rest of life, too, I guess. Two of my best friends got broken up with the day before Valentine's Day, one of my friends is semi-dating her thirty year old teacher, and I have fallen head-over-heels in love with my other best friend who is supposed to be nothing more than my replacement brother. As I said, shit is getting crazy. Thanks for the kind reviews!


	9. Chapter 9

**_Taming Dragons with Bedsheets_**

_Chapter Nine: Dead

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_

It was going to be amazing- Hermione could feel it in her bones. The way his skin blazed like fire beneath her hands made her heart race and beckoned forth an answering warmth in the pit of her belly. She could _feel _him, feel the twitching and growing as she unintentionally rocked her hips back and forth over his, and it was getting to the point where-

Charlie wasn't sure how much more he could take. It would be lovely- damn more than lovely, it would be fucking fantastic- to let this, whatever this was, happen. It would be better than anything that had ever happened to him in his life if the beautiful girl perched on his lap would just keep moving her hips like that, keep dragging her hands over his skin, keep her warm breath blowing on his face. It would be bloody brilliant-

But it would be wrong.

She was young- Charlie knew that they were mostly past the point of a few years mattering, but it couldn't be denied that Hermione was still a good deal younger than him. She couldn't have experienced much, but she was smart as a whip, and whatever she _did _experience…

Well, Charlie knew that she deserved someone a lot brighter than him- she should be dry humping the Minister of Magic right now, not a stupid dragon keeper who spent most of his days knee-deep in ashes and Horntail shit.

With an effort worthy of Merlin himself, Charlie forced his mind back to reality, squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed.

"What are we doing?" he asked the question glumly, knowing that it was reasonable enough to snap Hermione back to reality.

Or it should have been, anyway.

"_We _are about to have _sex_," Hermione said, somehow managing to say it flatly and yet add emphasis all at once. She was scowling at him now, her hands on her hips.

Charlie could feel blood rush to his cheeks, and he thought he would pass out. Three fourths of the blood in his body was already quite busy a bit lower down, and at the rate he was going he might as well just spout a nosebleed and keel over.

"You," he said, looking evenly into Hermione's disgruntled chocolate-brown eyes, "are going to kill me."

A grin split Hermione's lips, and Charlie found his eyes drawn back to them for the hundredth time. "In a manner of speaking, yes. La petite mort." She giggled, and Charlie, in any other situation, would have been upset at not understanding what she was talking about. As it were, he was using all of his concentration to try to make her see reason.

"Hermione, we can't just-"

"Yes," she said forcefully, pushing him back down on her bed and pinning him. "Yes, we can. Now, if you'll stop trying to make me leave you alone, I'd like to get back to what I was doing."

Charlie let out a weak, shaky breath and motioned vaguely with one hand that she should continue.

She grinned again, flipping her wild hair from her face, and leaned so that her lips were pressed to the center of his chest. Her breath was warm and it tickled, but Charlie kept as still as he could. Her kisses were light, ranging from his collar bone, up his neck, then to his ears (god help him), and back down. Where her hands had explored his scars earlier, her tiny, warm mouth now took over the job. There was a particularly nasty conglomeration of raised claw marks and burns that Charlie was sure she would pass over (it was quite hideous) but she didn't. She kissed every inch of the ruined skin, and then, suddenly, her weight disappeared from his hips.

Charlie groaned, his eyes flying open and watering at the unpleasantness of the feeling- cold air where there had been the most wonderful warmth. Hermione had raised herself onto her knees, scooted a bit further down the bed, leaned down into a position that almost suggested she was going to-

Make Charlie absofuckinglutely explode if she didn't stop this damn instant.

He opened his mouth to say something, not exactly a protest, more of a question, but found that he couldn't speak. Not in the oh-I'm-so-flustered-what-can-I-say way; he _literally _couldn't speak. His wide eyes sought Hermione's in the partial darkness, and found that she was grinning mischievously, placing her wand back beneath the bad covers.

"If I didn't Silence you, you'd have ruined it again," she said simply, but Charlie, alarmed as he was, could see the amusement dancing across her face. Lovely.

Without another word, she deftly pulled down his pajama pants, revealing-

what she'd been after for the past half-hour or so. Finally.

Feeling quite pleased with herself, she ran her hands down Charlie's stomach and then trailed them lightly up the length of his erection. If he hadn't been Silenced, Hermione was pretty sure he'd be cursing like a sailor from the look on his face. Experimentally, she rubbed her thumb across his tip, and was rewarded when his hips bucked beneath her hands. Good, then. If what he'd said before was true, about it having been a very long time, then it wasn't going to take long at all-

Before she killed him. She was trying to kill him, and that was that. The way she ran her hands ever-so-lightly up and down, up and down, and the way her eyes never left his erection as if it was the most interesting thing she'd ever set those gorgeous eyes on. Charlie could barely form a coherent thought, but he knew that-

This really was a lot of fun. She'd never experimented with this type of thing very much, always being a bit shy when it came to sex. But she was a grown woman now, and she'd waited long enough, thank you very much. She liked the way the muscles twitched infinitesimally between her hands, the way the sight of him made her core pulse and demand-

Something. Something had to give, or Charlie was just going to die and stop breathing. Maybe if he closed his eyes, maybe that would make the feeling-

Of her mouth on him…she wondered what that would be like. His eyes were closed, and that mischievous streak in her that had always made her secretly sympathetic with the twins laughed in delight. Without further ado, she stuck out her tongue and dragged it from base to tip, popping the head into her mouth when she reached the top. If only Charlie could see his face at that moment, he'd-

Die. Die and be happy. More than happy- fucking blissful. Warm and wet and the way her lips pressed against him and godmygodmygod she was moving her tongue and her hands and when did he tangle his hand in her hair? He wasn't sure, but he held on for dear life, wondering what was going through that perfect mind of hers as she-

Felt the change in him. The restraint he'd had going had ended abruptly when her mouth touched him. Relishing the fact that she was the one who'd made him that reckless and helpless and ready, she bobbed her head faster, intent on the finish line which was-

Going to come soon. Charlie would have told her to move her mouth away, warned her that she was about to get a mouthful of his-

There.

It was finished; done. Charlie lay trembling, shaking, and Hermione turned her face away so that she could grimace as she swallowed the not-exactly-pleasant liquid. Whoever wrote those romance books about _savoring_ _her lover's flavor on her tongue_ was a right scam artist. Hermione sheepishly admitted to herself that she'd expected it to taste a bit better as well- a good deal of it was supposed to be sugar, after all, to feed the sperm on their journey to an egg.

After her ordeal with choking down the mess in her mouth was finished, she turned her eyes to Charlie. He was covered in sweat, eyes closed, breathing hard. Remembering her silencing charm, she grabbed her wand and freed him. Sliding herself across the bed until she rested next to him, her head cradled on his shoulder, she waited for him to recover.

It took many minutes, but finally he cracked one hazy blue eye open.

"You don't look very dead," Hermione said conversationally, trying not to smile.

"Feel dead," he mumbled, sounding a bit sleepy.

Hermione felt warmth rush through her, not the lusty heat that had enveloped her earlier, but a gentle affection that felt like a basket of kittens. "Go to sleep, then," she whispered, resting a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat as it slowed from its erratic tantrum.

"Can't," Charlie said, sounding like every breath was a struggle. "What 'bout you?"

Hermione laughed inwardly- a valiant attempt to be noble, to please her in return. Too bad his body was already at the point of collapsing from exhaustion. "Maybe tomorrow, Charlie. Go to sleep," she whispered soothingly, kissing him softly on the cheek.

He grinned a little. "K," he sighed, and he was out before he'd even finished the syllable.

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**_A/N: _**Yes, yes, I know this took forever, I know they did not have sex, I know this wasn't proofread at all, and I know this is probably a bit of a letdown. But thanks for the reviews and everything, you've all been wonderful.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Taming Dragons With Really Short Chapters**_

_Chapter Ten: The Mourning After (I see what you did there)

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_

Life is really funny sometimes. Like how one day you'll be fighting your twin brothers as they try to get you to have sex with anyone in sight after you return home from years in the middle of nowhere having your flesh burned off by dragons, and then the next day you can wake up in bed next to an absolutely breathtakingly naked witch who wasn't naked when you'd gone to sleep, but hey, you weren't complaining.

Charlie wasn't complaining, but he was confused. It didn't make sense at all how things had ended up the way they were- with Hermione Granger snuggled up to his chest, in her birthday suit. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do next. He'd never been one for one night stands. They weren't his style, and, quite frankly, his mother had raised him better than that. He didn't know what kind of girl Hermione was, but he had a feeling this wasn't her usual style either. So when she woke up, what was going to happen?

They hadn't had _sex_, exactly, but they had been sexually involved. There was no getting around it. Charlie's head was spinning- he was a simple man. He liked simple things, and relationships were never simple. Dragons were simple. You get in the way of the teeth, you get bitten. You get in the way of the feet, you get squished. You get in the way of the flame, you get burned. If relationships could just be like dragons, then Charlie would know exactly what to do.

He sighed, and his breath ruffled Hermione's untamed curls. As confused as he was, he liked that. He liked the feel of her warm body nestled up to his, the feel of her hair splayed across his chest, even if some of it occasionally worked itself into his mouth and nearly gagged him.

She stirred, stretching her arms luxuriously as she rolled her back muscles. Charlie couldn't help but watch as her back undulated, couldn't help but stare at the way her breasts pressed into his own chest, creating an upside down valley of sorts.

"Morning," he croaked, his mouth suddenly very dry.

She started, her eyes growing impossibly wide as she nearly broke her neck turning to look him in the face. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, and they locked eyes, barely breathing.

"Oh, dear," she whispered, and he could see his own worried face mirrored in her overly-large eyes.

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_**A/N: **_Sorry this was so short! Just had to get that done with.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Taming Dragons With Bedsheets_**

_Chapter Eleven: A Bit of Practice

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_

Charlie was feeling a bit awkward as he sat across from Hermione's mother and father at the small dinner table in her flat. Actually, "a bit" was a huge understatement. Hermione's father glared at him between every bite of brunch, while her mother was making him even more concerned. Every now and then, Charlie would catch Mrs. Granger giving him an appreciative, almost smug look from the corner of her eye, and he was beginning to turn a bit red in the face. That only made Mr. Granger look angrier, but there wasn't much Charlie could do about that.

Hermione, for her part, had taken the unexpected arrival of her parents in stride. She had been in the middle of fixing breakfast while Charlie showered when the doorbell to her flat had rang. It was about that time that she remembered it was Sunday- the day of her parents' weekly visit, and she'd thought fast on her feet- much faster than Charlie would've been able, he realized sadly, poking his scrambled eggs around with his fork. With a quick bit of wandwork, breakfast for two had turned into brunch for four. Unfortunately, there was very little she'd been able to do to warn Charlie about the surprise waiting for him in the sitting room when he finished his shower.

He'd entered the sitting room wearing nothing but his flannel pajama pants from the night before, only to find a middle-aged man and woman staring at him with shocked faces. Never in his life had Charlie felt more helpless than in that moment. His wand was back at the Burrow on his bedside table, so he couldn't transfigure himself new clothes, and he hadn't exactly been expecting to end up in Hermione Granger's bedroom last night, so all he had was what he'd arrived wearing.

Which wasn't exactly the perfect meet-the-parents outfit, in Charlie's opinion. Hermione, bless her, hadn't even batted an eyelash when she'd entered the living room to find a half-dressed, shower-wet Charlie standing awkwardly in front of her disapproving parents.

"The tea's ready, Mum and Dad," she said simply, smiling at them and gesturing that they should follow her into the kitchen. Charlie caught her eye, face full of sheepish embarrassment as he tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do. His instincts were yelling "RUN! RUN NOW!", but he felt bad leaving her to deal with the mess on her own.

"Come on," she'd said, grinning at him, "before your food gets cold."

She was something else, that Hermione Granger.

"So," Hermione's father said, finally drawing Charlie back to the present, which was, frankly, not where he wanted to be. "Who are you, anyway?" he demanded, forcing Charlie to meet his eyes.

Charlie and Hermione both opened their mouths to answer, but, to their surprise, Mrs. Granger beat them to it. "He's clearly one of the Weasleys, dear," she said calmly, smiling at Charlie affectionately.

Charlie looked back at his plate, too confused to even make a guess as to why she was smiling at him like that. Hermione, on the other hand, was losing the fight against holding back hysterical giggles. She was a sharp girl, and she didn't miss the way her mother's eyes kept wandering to Charlie's bare, rather impressive chest. Her father wasn't missing it either.

"Well that still doesn't explain what he's doing here half-naked at this time of the morning," Mr. Granger said stiffly, casting a disapproving glance at his wife. She was still a bit busy ogling the embarrassed redhead across the table from her, though, so she missed it.

"His brothers played a nasty prank on him," Hermione explained, purposefully not looking anywhere near Charlie as she spoke. "They surprise-portkeyed him here late last night, and he didn't have his wand, so he couldn't get back to the Burrow. I was going to apparate him back after you left."

Charlie blinked rapidly, trying to figure out if all of that equaled a lie. It was _technically _true, just minus a few important bits. Very important bits, if Charlie did say so himself.

Mr. Granger didn't look entirely convinced, but Charlie got the distinct impression that he decided he didn't want to know more.

"So what is it you do for a living, Weasley?" he demanded, turning his attention back to Charlie.

"His name is Charlie, Dad," Hermione interjected quickly, giving her father the same disapproving gaze that he'd given her mother only moments before. "There's no need to be rude."

Before Mr. Granger had a chance to retort, Charlie cleared his throat, glad to finally have a question he had the mental capacity to answer. "I'm a dragon keeper on a reserve in Romania," Charlie explained quickly, feeling as if, for the first time since his disastrous(somewhat) welcome home party, he was finally in his element.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked startled, their jaws hanging wide open in surprise. Charlie backtracked, immediately regretting his flippant answer.

"I-i-it's not as bad as it sounds, of course," he hastened to explain. "They're really misunderstood- dragons, I mean. As long as you've got fast reflexes and a firm hand they're- they're almost harmless…" he faltered, letting his words die off. He was intensely aware of both Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and even Hermione, staring pointedly at the burn marks and claw scars that covered his arms and chest.

"It just takes a bit of practice, is all," he finished in a small voice, very much wanting to crawl under the table and die.

Mr. Granger could think of nothing else to say after that, so he finished his meal in silence. Charlie thought that was a good idea as well, so he never let his eyes leave the nearly untouched mass of eggs on his plate.

Mrs. Granger caught Hermione's eye, and they broke into identical secret smiles, unbeknownst to their male counterparts at the breakfast table.

"Practice, indeed," mouthed Mrs. Granger, waggling her eyebrows in the direction of the perpetually red-faced Charlie.

Hermione had to fight very hard not to break into another indecent fit of giggles.

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**_A/N: _**This chapter did _not _want to be written. I fought with it for what felt like forever! But finally, against all odds, here it is. Thanks for the reviews! You're all wonderful!


	12. Chapter 12

_**Taming Dragons With Bedsheets**_

_Chapter Twelve: A Twinterlude_

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"Oh brother dearest!" Fred and George sang in unison as they burst through the door of Charlie's bedroom, impossibly large grins plastered on their faces. George took a flying leap and landed not-quite-gracefully on top of the mass of blankets on Charlie's bed.

"Sleeps like a boulder, doesn't he?" Fred observed fondly when Charlie failed to wake up yelling as George wallowed gleefully around on the bed.

After a moment, George paused in his demolition of his brother's bed, huffing as he tried to catch his breath. He glared down at the covers around him, and then up at his twin.

"Fred, my dear, there is a distinct lack of Charlie in this here bed," George said very seriously, holding up the empty blankets for inspection.

Fred's eyebrows shot up as he looked carefully around the room, checking in the closet and under the rug and behind the nightstand.

"George, my darling, you've misspoken. There's a distinct lack of Charlie in this here _room._"

The twins stared each other down for a moment, George looking quite ruffled from his roll in Charlie's covers. "Search the house," they stated firmly, running from the room and heading down to the most likely place to find any of the Weasley brothers.

"Muuuum! Mum! Mumumumum!" they yelled as they trampled down the stairs, causing a huge racket and making the other occupants of the Weasley home stick their heads out of their respective rooms in confusion.

Mrs. Weasley was waiting at the kitchen door, concern etched in every line of her face as the twins barreled downstairs.

"Mum!" Fred wheezed, bending over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. George flopped across him, using his twin to support his weight.

"Where's Charlie?" George demanded, trying to look past his mother into the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley's concern immediately turned to suspicion. "He hasn't come down from his room yet. What have you two done to him?" she asked, glaring from one breathless redhead to the other.

The twins exchanged one of their significant looks, and then straightened up to give their mother very serious, innocent expressions.

"We've done nothing to him," George said in a way that almost felt as if he was trying to hypnotize his mother into believing him.

"We'll just be on our way up to his room now. You know, to talk to him," Fred added.

"Because he's up there-"

"In his room-"

"As you said."

"Love you, Mum," they sang before bolting back upstairs, away from their mother's accusing gaze.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, staring at the top of the stairs where the twins had disappeared. In the old days, she'd have chased them down and forced them to admit whatever they were hiding. She smiled ruefully, realizing not for the first time that she'd gone soft on them since the war.

"You don't think…he actually sealed the deal?" Fred trailed off, already half-grinning as he and George lounged on Charlie's bed.

"It can't've actually _worked_," George reasoned. "Hermione'd never..."

They looked at each other, eyes sparkling and lips pulling up in identical nearly-malicious grins.

"Who're we kidding, Georgie?"

"Of course it worked, Freddie, we're the Weasley twins."

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**_A/N: _**So Spring Break is done, and it's back to college. Boo. At least I have this to look forward to, right? Other story updates soon. Thanks for the reviews and everything, you're all wonderful!

Just a warning- I think I've posted this warning before, but just being safe- this story probably won't have an actual ending. It'll probably just sort of...fade off. So if you look someday and it says "complete" but it doesn't feel that way? Well...my bad.

**_Super NEW A/N: _So maybe you're like, "Hey, you usually update a lot, and you said there'd be an update within a week! And there definitely hasn't been one for like two or three weeks!" Well, allow me to explain. Spring Break came and went, I wrote this chapter, uploaded it to MyDocs, and then MY LAPTOP CAUGHT FIRE. So there's that little problem. Still don't have a new one. After that, I attempted to use at least three other computers to put this chapter up, but my account was frozen or something. Then my car got broken into, my debit card and everything stolen, and blah blah blah. Dear readers, I have had a shit time of things lately. **

**But here is this chapter after much pain and BS. My account is up again for now. Barely worth it, but here it is. Love you all, thanks for the support. Feel free to follow me on Twitter for more depressing news from my life. Link is on my profile. Uck it.**


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